She leaned in to whisper, but her voice carried plainly. “Fear the shadow of the hawk when he flies, for his talons bite deep.”
Shadow shoved her away. But she didn’t go far before she began to sing a haunting ditty. “Into your life, the hawk will creep … sing, my child, sing. Let your voice to the heavens fly.… But remember there’s no one to save you when you die.”
“Enough!” Shadow roared. And when he did, his eyes turned bloodred. They glowed an unholy fire in the darkness.
And still she tsked. “The Shadow Hawk bellows and all the world kneels.… For bow you must or your life will he steal.”
“I swear on my rotted and damned soul, if you don’t leave, Mairee, I will finish what the Sakers started!”
“Temper, temper, Lord of Shadows and Dark. There was a time when you begged for my smile.”
“That was before you betrayed me.”
“Do your friends know what they follow? How quick you are to turn?”
Shadow let out a bitter laugh. He started for her, then stopped. He turned toward them then and cursed. “Brogan!”
Medea looked over to see that the howling wind was masking the sounds of the Crom’s horse as he rushed toward them.
And he wasn’t alone.
What appeared to be a hundred shadow dogs followed in his wake, with yellow eyes glowing.
Medea felt the blood drain from her face as she realized they had no way to fight that number.
Shadow handed the rope to Falcyn. “Stay on the road. Move forward and I’ll join you as soon as I can.”
“What are you—”
“Go!” he roared at Falcyn. “Forward. Don’t stop! If the barking dogs get to you, you’re finished.”
Falcyn rushed forward, dragging them in his wake. They ran up a small hill and turned back just in time to see Shadow overrun by the demonic dogs he’d sought to hold back from their heels.
Medea’s eyes widened at the horrific sight. “We’re so effing dead.”
13
Falcyn, Urian, Blaise, and Brandor took positions between Medea and Brogan as the rabid dogs approached them. Medea held her breath, waiting to be overrun and swarmed the same way they’d done to poor Shadow.
There was nothing left of where he’d been.
Not even a drop of blood. It appeared as if he’d been completely devoured by them. Every last bit. Body and soul.
Louder and louder, the barking and snarling grew. Brogan reached out and took her hand. While she stood bravely with her jaw locked in silence, there was the slightest tremor in her hand to let Medea know just how frightened the woman was.
Then, just as the twisted demonic dogs reached them, the shadowed earth shot up at a right angle, forming a wall between them and the demonic beasts. They slammed into it and howled out in agony. Swirling and twisting like smoke, the ground formed a giant hand that sent the animals scattering and running off into the dark.
The Crom came in the next wave, on his eerie ghost steed. Rushing and snorting fire, the beast seemed every bit as determined to add them to its menu. Just as it would have reached their position, the hand bent around and curved up to form a huge beast of a man.
“You have no power here!” Though the voice was distorted in its inhuman growl and pitch, Medea still recognized it as Shadow’s.
The Crom pulled his horse up short, causing it to rear and paw fire at the hand. “This kerling belongs to me!” The rasping voice came from Brogan.
Medea gaped as she saw that Brogan’s eyes were now milky white with no iris or pupil whatsoever. Her skin was ice cold to touch.
The Crom had obviously taken her over completely so that he could speak through her.
Blaise growled low in his throat as he must have realized what was going on. “You’re not taking her!”
“B-b-b-b…” Brogan choked, then fell to her knees to clutch at her throat. It was obvious the Crom was commanding her to speak Blaise’s name and she was refusing to give him the power of death over the mandrake.
Throwing her head back, Brogan let out a blood-chilling screech. She pounded the ground until her fist was bloody and bruised.
“Stop it!” Blaise shifted into his dragon’s body. He let loose a blast of fire toward the Crom.
Engulfed by the fire, he laughed through Brogan’s throat. Then threw his whip of bones and skulls toward Blaise. The head at the end of it opened its mouth as if it were screaming silently at the mandrake.
Shadow caught it and threw it back toward the horse and rider. “Leave here or I will dine on you both!”
Yanking his whip free of Shadow’s grasp, the Crom snapped it in the air, shooting sparks of fire in all directions. Sulphur choked Medea and burned her throat.
“I demand my property!” He cracked his whip for Brogan.
Shadow caught it again and yanked the Crom from his horse. Faster than Medea could blink, Falcyn was on him.
He grabbed the Crom and pulled him up from the ground. “Renounce your claim on the kerling. Here and now. Give her her freedom or I will rid you of your essence for all eternity!”
The Crom struggled for several seconds until he realized that Falcyn wasn’t about to give. More than that, he came to the startling and truthful conclusion that Falcyn indeed had the means and ability to carry out his not-so-empty threat. “Very well, my lord. I give the kerling her freedom.”
No sooner did Brogan speak those words than she fell forward to lie in a heap. Blaise returned to his human form so that he could rush to her side and pull her into his arms.
“Ro?” His voice quivered from the strain of his fear. “Speak to me! Say something!”
Brandor knelt beside them. “Brogan, please don’t leave me alone!”
Still, she didn’t move. She didn’t even appear to breathe. Her face turned pale, then blue.
Fearful tears choked Medea as she feared what they did. That the Crom had freed Brogan by killing her. Though she’d just met the woman, she felt for her and didn’t want to lose her any more than the men did.
Blaise cupped her cheek and cradled her against his shoulder. “Speak to me, my lady. I cannot live knowing I caused you harm.”
When she didn’t respond, Blaise choked on a sob and lifted her up. Her head fell back while Brandor took her hand and kissed it as if it were unspeakably precious. Tears fled down his cheeks. This was pure brotherly love and it made her chest tighten in sympathy for all of them.
Medea’s gaze swam from her own unshed tears, especially when she saw the agony on Urian’s face. Without being told, she knew he was reliving the death of his own sister. And more than that, his beloved wife.
His most precious Phoebe.
That tortured look made her stomach ache for him. And it brought out the memories of her own loss. Made all those old wounds fresh and new.
For a moment, she feared she’d give in to the agony of the past and be ruined by it again.
Falcyn wrapped his arms around her and held her back to his front as her vision blurred from unshed tears. She felt his jaw tic as he whispered, “I can’t interfere in this realm. My powers won’t work here.”
“What?”
Falcyn ground his teeth. “I can’t save her from this.”